All the Things
by pinkiethebandit
Summary: Jack's existed for a long, long time and had generations and generations of friends. He knows so much about them, but there's so much they've never known about him. Now there's someone who wants to know, and maybe show him something while he's at it.


All the Things

Sometimes it's hard for Jack to know all the things he knows about generations and generations of playmates. He lays in the grass, still warm from the last rays of the sun, and he thinks about Jamie and Nessa, because they're growing up like all the others. Jamie and Nessa like to play in the snow. Jamie and Nessa eat ice cream together all the time. Jamie sometimes puts bugs in Nessa's hair, but it's not because he doesn't like her.

Jamie and Nessa are 'boyfriend and girlfriend' now, when they don't even know what those words really mean. Jack knows though; he remembers the shape of the words, the way they mold his friends to fit inside. There's no room in there for him, not in the 'boyfriend,' despite him being a boy and a friend, nor in the 'girlfriend,' nor even in the 'and.' So he finds new friends, but sometimes he wonders how he could have squeezed into those words with some of his old friends because they're so special he doesn't want to let them go.

He doesn't want to let them go.

But he'll let Jamie and Nessa go because what else can he do? It hurts worse when he tries to hold on, he remembers that, too; no, he remembers that more. He remembers a girl and a snowman and a river. The girl's blurry when he tries to picture her smiling, but somehow when he pictures her sad he can see her like she's standing right in front of him again, tears shining like crystal on her gaunt cheeks.

And just like that it's not a memory but a reality and he aches all over again for the friend he lost so long ago. He remembers her more than all the others, but when he thinks of her he thinks of them and he wishes he could follow them to wherever they went. Because they all went, every one of them went, and he was a fool to want to see them again when he should have known it had been too long and they wouldn't be there anymore.

Jack closes his eyes.

* * *

Sometimes it's harder for Jack to think about generations and generations of friends that'll never know any of the things about him. No one's ever known that he wishes he could eat, or that he likes to make pretty things out of ice, or that he doesn't remember ever feeling the warmth of loving arms around him. He perches on a rock overlooking a valley and he thinks about telling one of his new friends now that they can see him, but he knows he won't.

He wishes he could have told her and the ones that followed, but they went before they could learn to believe in him. She almost did. It was such a close, heartrendingly close thing.

Jack sucks in a sharp breath of air even though he doesn't need to breathe.

* * *

Sometimes it's hardest for Jack to believe that even one person wants to know some of the things about him. That's why he doesn't tell Bunnymund that his favorite thing to do when he's not making fun is to watch people, or that he thinks caribou are pretty awesome, or that he loves the spring almost as much as the winter.

He especially doesn't tell Bunnymund that he loves the spring.

Bunny finds out anyway, of course, because he's not stupid and the grin on Jack's face when the little buggers of Burgess are out looking for Easter eggs is. So after Easter, he takes Jack to the Warren, because if there's a place to worship spring it's the Warren, and Jack's face lights up and Bunny knows he did the right thing.

"Walk with me," he says to the kid and leads him to a meadow where the wildflowers are thick. "Sit."

For a long time Bunny doesn't say anything, and so he comes to realize that that's exactly what the kid wants, but he's not sure it's what the kid needs. "What's your favorite color, Jack?"

"Excuse me?"

"Your favorite color?"

"Whoa, there, cottontail, somebody might accidentally think you care."

"I do." The kid goes still and Bunny says, "You're part of the team now, mate. That makes us friends."

"Blue," he says, rolling his eyes because isn't it totally obvious and how corny was that?

"Have you started working on a den yet?"

"You mean like this place and the Workshop? Nah, I'm more the roaming type, and Burgess is enough of a home base the way it is."

"What do you do when you're out roaming?"

"Oh, you know, stuff. Winter stuff."

Bunny shivers just thinking about it. "I don't know how you stand the bloody cold. Don't you ever think it might be nice to be warm?"

He waits for an answer but when it comes he knows it's not the real one, "I like the cold. I don't know how you can stand all that fur. Warmth is overrated."

"You got it all wrong, mate. Warmth is what life's all about."

Jack just shrugs. Bunny gets mad, he doesn't like being taken lightly, so he resolves to prove it to him, every day for the rest of eternity if that's what it takes. Because Bunny's right and Jack's an ass.

He starts by putting an arm around Jack, and Jack is so surprised he doesn't move. Even after he's surprised he doesn't move, because finally he has someone he can tell all the things about Jack Frost.

* * *

**AN**: Thank you for reading!

I wanted to practice a different style than I'm used to, and this came to me. It was very flowy in my head. I hope I was able to capture that in the execution. It was pretty tough since I usually like to make full use of short, sharp sentences.

Because this is a new style for me, I'd _heartily_ appreciate some comments about whether it worked or not, and if not how I can make it better. But, of course, as always, you're welcome to just read. :)

Also, how sweet is Bunnymund? I love that giant rabbit.

(By the way, I'm sorry I don't know more Australian slang and that I haven't had time to read the books yet. Some time in the future I plan to be able to write him better. If anyone wants to share tips about fleshing out Bunny, I'd be ecstatic.)


End file.
